Saturday, March 10, 2007

Fish and Bear

Bear (voiceover): I don't deserve you. You give and give, and I can't do anything in return. When I was hungry, you offered me your cousin. I don't even know what you eat.

I remember the first time I saw you. The snow off Rainier raised the water and expanded the river. The boulder I usually stand upon was completely covered. The water's velocity created a hydraulic, trapping salmon. I gorged myself, crawled to shore, and fell into a food coma. When I woke, the late afternoon haze created stalactites of light through the forest cover. An eddy of light caught your scales as you tried to feebly leap out of the hydraulic.

I wanted to eat again, but I couldn't kill you. Seeing you was like watching a stained glass window swim.